


Stacked

by coveredbyroses



Series: Birthday Drabbles 2018 [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 10:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: You have huge boobs. It’s kind of a problem.





	Stacked

Big boobs has few perks, sadly. Sure, it gets you attention when you want it…but it also gets you attention when you  _don’t_  want it. Running is a pain. Literally. And hunting? Shit. You practically have to tape the fuckers down.

Dean Winchester had instantly been drawn to them, of course. You don’t think he’d actually made eye contact with you until your third meeting, and even then he struggled keeping his gaze level with yours.

But you’d fallen for him. Hard.

You’ve known the guy for a good six months now, and you’ve never moved past smoldering stares and lingering grazes.

It’s a Tuesday night when he finally makes a real move. The witches pumped full of enchanted lead and burned. Beers have been had and Sam’s taken off with the bartender.

The motel room’s nondescript: same tacky wallpaper that peels at the corners, same musty-brown carpet, same horridly-patterned bed comforter.

Dean’s got his arm slung across your shoulders, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt sleeve. You’ve got the crown of your head tucked up under his neck while you blink absently at the unimpressive melodrama playing on the television.

He smoothes his hand up over the round of your shoulder, snakes his fingers down over the thick swell of your right breast. He moves slow, like he’s testing your reaction. You keep still, firm your lips with the effort of damming your excited grin.

Your stomach lurches when his fingers pass over your nipple, and your thighs twitch. You bite back your moan when his hand closes around the fabric-covered mound of flesh, as much as it can anyway, and then you’re arching into him, tipping your head back to brush your lips over his ear.

“We gonna fuck or what?”

The bed protests as the two of you shift to peel off your clothes, denim and cotton flying every which way in your heated desperation.

Dean scoots down on the bed, gloriously naked, muscles tensing and rolling as he settles into the pillows.

You waste no time situating yourself over his bare hips, greedily grasping the broad base of his cock to align him with your soaked entrance.

The room is loud with gritty grunts, gasps, and moans as you sink down on him. You start a quick rhythm, using the strength in your thighs to bob yourself up and down.

It doesn’t take long for the ache to start in your tits as they wildly bounce with you. You slap your palms over them, but then Dean’s slapping them away—

“I wanna see,” he pants, green eyes wide and dark.

“Nngh-no—hurts,” you gasp, tightening your grip on your chest. He grabs your hips, lifts you up and off of him so he can flip you—

Your head plops against the pillows, still warm, and then Dean’s falling forward on one hand beside your shoulder, working himself back inside you with the other.

He presses himself against you to capture your lips with his, but the hard weight of him is too crushing against—

“Ow!”

He tears his lips away, brows twisted above his eyes in startled confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re heavy,” you pant. “Hurts.”

You grit your teeth in frustration, arousal quickly cooling and fading under your skin.

Dean shifts on his knees, straightens his back and gives you a gentle, testing thrust. “Think we got a little spastic there,” he says. “Just relax…” Fire licks at at your nerves as he rocks into you. “Gonna fuck ya nice and slow.”

You think you’ll keep him.


End file.
